Day 1

I made my way up north and hit Oxnard, a city I wasn’t familiar with and one I don’t think I want to become too familiar with as time goes on. Maybe I’m speaking out of ignorance, but that was my first impression.

I parked my van on a random suburban street near Channel Islands Harbor, and as I settled into bed and attempted to drift off to sleep, the yells from the nearby seals kept me awake throughout the night. But I was perfectly okay with it. As a matter of fact, I was content. To lose sleep over the sounds of the locals was only right—a gesture of welcoming, I would like to think.

It’s been six months since I’ve been traveling or gone out on my own, and I have this huge smirk on my face the entire time. It feels like I’ve started a new story in my life, a new unrevealed chapter that can only be written as the days go by. The days leading up to this were nerve-racking. I was anxious and at times slightly irritable, but here I am, alone again with no real permanent destination, just me and my home on wheels. Day 1 is done. I’m glad to be back on the open road.